


Outrunning the Sun

by InsominiacArrest



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Overwatch, Emotional Turmoil, F/F, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, marathons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: Fareeha’s mother has just disappeared, she’s teetering on academic probation at her law school, and she has some serious stress to work out. She unthinkingly joins a marathon and pushes herself too far, leading to her having to be taken care by on-site medical staff.Heatstroke marathon AU





	Outrunning the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought it would be interesting to explore Fareeha’s reaction to her mom disappearing in a different context
> 
> note: I have a rudimentary knowledge of the Buffalo New York Marathon

_Buffalo New York_

Six-thirty crept up like an old friend she didn’t necessarily like, an old friend she might cross the street to avoid, an old friend who asked her out for drinks and probed into her love life unprompted. She didn’t look forward to six-thirty, but certainly knew it.

Fareeha reached down to touch her toes, feeling the familiar pull in her hamstrings. She bent down and stretched both her ankles before standing up, doing an across the body arm stretch.

Her eyes glazed over, the other runners became colorful blobs in her vision, they were chattering amongst themselves and Fareeha swallows dryly. She could feel a slight ache in her head, the long night was still catching up to her.

She reaches for the sky and rearranges her track shirt, it was the one from high school announcing ‘The Cairo Hawks’ in yellow letters. It would have to do.

She tightened her ponytail and her eyes dragged over the starting line, six thirty was almost there. The first wave clustered in front of the blue line on the road.

Fareeha stands up straight, surveying the backs of the participants, their numbers plastered on the back or front. The buzz in the air was tangible, runners giving off their gusto for something.

She turns to rising sun that was already warming the earth, causing the cool pavement to already glow. Fareeha could sense that the May 28th sun was not going to hold back.

_ssshhhpop_

The starting gun rings through the air and the men’s first wave pounds the asphalt in a wave of thumping feet. Fareeha watches their straining backs as they start off with the enthusiasm licking at their heels, Fareeha purses her lips.

She clenches and unclenches her fists as the next fifteen minutes pass in a gray blur, she ached to have her feet pounding the pavement, to go.

Fareeha knits her brow together, the second wave of women start to gather, their faces glowing with the coming start, she wished the giddiness was more like a virus than a wall.

Fareeha trains her eyes in front of her, following the empty road on the downtown street.

Her mind wanders back to her email, the message like a lead balloon still hanging her gut: _notice for academic prohibition._

_ppsshoot_

The air gun goes off like an adrenaline shot and Fareeha digs her toes into the pavement and lurches forward, pumping her legs in time with thoughts: _run_.

The solid ground edges her on and she pulls ahead, pacing out the 26 miles be damned, she had felt the drag of exhaustion enough in the military, her legs would move as long as she told them to.

She surges into the front and her eyes glaze over as she runs.

Modern stacked buildings pass by like unknowable statues and she makes the breathless trek down Delaware Avenue.

Fareeha keeps her eyes on the next building, the next tree, the next turn, she wasn’t slowing down for the sun on her back and the joggers pacing behind her. She automatizes her insides and keeps going.

The traffic lights hang overhead, blinking yellow to tell them they had shut down the city for this, she gives into a numbness and gives a little more.

The first mile is an empty smooth plate of glass, and her second mile is a forgettable table of pounding her nike’s into a more unknowable shape. Her mom always said to buy durable shoes, ‘ _if you’re going to spend money Fareeha, at least buy reasonable shoes. You’ll thank me_.’

Fareeha’s face crumbles into nothing, she grits her teeth and the path becomes an alien blur, she passes Gates Circle and goes through the third mile with her feet steady and blank.

The buildings give way in neat rows of trees and she makes the quick loop on to the 5k marker.

She passes the Soldiers Place labeled like they wanted you to know, it tugs on her and she sees the first wave joggers in front of her.

The courthouse passes, she empty’s inside.

Fareeha had always had a sense she would be holding a degree from Columbia in a year, her name printed in black ink across the paper that said she could practice law, bring justice.

But life wasn’t an optimistic radio drama.

She feels the six-mile marker pass like she was watching her body from outside itself. She reaches lake Erie before she can count the k’s properly.

It’s a large expanse of gentle waves under a pale sky, sizzling under the wheat-colored sun that ran sweat down her back, she barely felt it. The water was as wide as anything and coursed through her veins, it’s lapping waves making her want to go a little harder, it was spitefully calm.

The sun drives a personal campaign against her back and she’s barely half-way through the race.

She makes it farther and farther past the bay and the numbness had neatly set in like the email in her inbox and the Missing Person’s report.

Her eyes play videos behind her eyes. Police at her door and questions, _what did her mom do for a living? Where did you last her?_ Where was Ana Amari.

Fareeha forgets and her mouth tastes like dry paste, she can feel the heat radiating off her like a furnace and all she wants to do is keep running. Her mother becomes a ghost and Columbia becomes a bad dream.

Fareeha beats her feet against the pavement until the fifteenth mile. Another famous park passes and she almost misses New York the City. That was only building after building that grew too tall when she went downtown.

She’d be back in a couple hours.

Fareeha’s legs start complaining, they did not appreciate the ruthless pace. Her sweat clings to her and wets her shirt, she can feel a headache broaching her into a migraine, but that wasn’t anything new.

She feels the twentieth mile like a bee sting on her thighs and her eyes were a blurry line of too many nights in law school trying to decipher torts. She wobbles over to a water stand, maybe it was time for some water.

The other female runners are little dots on the horizon behind her and she splashes the water on her face, then down her front and unevenly into her mouth. It barely quenches her and a sudden wave of nausea threatens to send her sprawling.

“Ugh,” She falters and the world waves back and forth like one of those inflatable dolls at a car dealership, she covers her mouth.

Her skin is a hot pot and she feels her forehead, her skin is as dry as unmoisturized lizard scales, “Are you alright there love?” A voice chirps to her and Fareeha stares at her feet. “That was a fast couple miles, you feeling alright?”

Fareeha staggers forward, waving her hand dismissively in the air, and then wobbles uselessly to the ground. The heat oozes off her and she closes her eyes for a moment.

Fareeha is a little fuzzy on the details after that, she was partially conscious, but her brain was definitely overcooked soup. She is led away to a medical tent and lies down.

\----------

Fareeha comes back to full consciousness with a pleasant coolness resting on her forehead and a slight sting on her forearm. Her head is softly cushioned and she feels a throbbing headache roaring like a distant tiger, it was manageable. Fareeha lets herself lie there in a gentle sea.

“Honestly, they should have called 911.” A faraway voice says and Fareeha’s senses light up.

“Why would, when we have world class Dr. Zieglar?”

The first voice snorts lightly, “You don’t have to butter me up.”  
  
Fareeha claws her way up to alertness and squints her eyes open into a dim light, the ceiling was a white sloping clothe.

She furrows her brow and tries to sit up, “Whoa there.” A hand comes down and pushes her back down.

Fareeha looks around and finds the face of a woman with a golden ring of hair. Fareeha blinks a couple times. She wore a shirt with a bright red medic cross over it and Fareeha looks around, she was pillowed in this woman’s lap, she goes to get up again.

“What did I say? Don’t even try it.” The woman snaps firmly and keeps her in place on the cott. On her lap.

“I’ll leave you to it doctor.” The voice of the man in the door says and she watches a dark haired man disappear through a tent flap.

Fareeha’s eyes drag reluctantly back up to the medic, she blowing her blonde bangs out of her face and her long neck stuck out of the white shirt in a graceful arc. _Pretty_. Fareeha wants a refund on her own thoughts.

“You know if you were my regular patient I’d put under house arrest,” Fareeha distantly registers that the woman was chastising her.

Fareeha blinks a couple times and tries to catch up, “doctor jail?”

The doctor’s face breaks into a smile, “If only, but right track. For the reckless and young, you’d be in my checkup room right now Door locked.” She proclaims with a finger wag. Fareeha raises her eyebrows and swallows her tongue.

She glances at the tube stuck into her arm, a bag of clear liquid was dripping into it.

“Honestly, this is one of the worst cases of heatstroke I’ve seen since a battlefield.” The doctor shakes her head with a weary sigh.

Fareeha shrugs lightly as the doctor grumbles, “It was a race.”  
  
The doctor frowns slightly, “A race to the morgue maybe. Do you know how dehydrated you were?”

“A lot?” She offers and is greeted with a twinkling laugh.

“Close.” She winks, “Perhaps, ‘a bunch,’ or ‘far too much’.”

Fareeha glances at the IV drip again, she feels the cool pressure of an icepack against head and arms, weighing her down with one on her chest and lower stomach.

“Did you not feel the need to drink? Or jump into the lake maybe?” The doctor was still insisting. Fareeha blinks up and tries to rearrange herself, the doctor stops her, “Keep the ice packs on.”

“Yes ma'am.” She stays in place despite herself. She felt like a dog tucking its tail in between her legs, she looks away, “And I’ve had worse.”  
  
The raises her eyebrows, “Me too.” She meets her eye, “I’m Doctor Angela Ziegler. Patron of the young and reckless, as mentioned.”  
  
Fareeha sprouts a small smile despite herself, “Fareeha Amari. The young and reckless.”

Doctor Ziegler nods lightly, “We agree then, and you will stay out of the sun for at least a day.”

Fareeha looks up to peak around the tent, “how will I finish the race?”

Doctor Ziegler raises her eyebrows, “Thankfully, not in a stretcher.”  
  
Fareeha sighs deeply, “Figures.”  
  
The doctor rearranges the ice pack on her forehead, “Of course, this is what happens if you don’t drink during a race.”  
  
Fareeha gives a half-smile, “The sun can be cruel. I understand.” She looks down at her bare skin, her shirt had been stripped away and she was left in her purple sports bra.

“And we pay by sitting in medical tents for hours.”

Fareeha tenses, trying to sit up, only to be pushed back down, “Hours?”  
  
“We didn’t have as many heat strokes cases as you might expect,” The doctor says with some humor. “But you have to careful with these things. I’d take you to the hospital if you didn’t have me here.”  
  
Fareeha gives a low chuckle, “Don’t let me stop you miss ‘entire hospitals’.”  
  
“Two hospitals liebling.”

Fareeha stops herself from her rolling her eyes and her eyes trace her jawline, more stubborn than it was delicate.

She almost jumps as a hand touches her cheek, “May I ask where you live? I don’t recommend driving for awhile.”

Fareeha’s eyes go wide, “The Bronx. Next to Manhattan.” She pauses, her brain going through the logistics. “I go to Columbia.”

“Columbia?” Doctor Ziegler leans down.

Fareeha raises her eyebrows, “What? I’m law student...Not a health one.”  
  
Ziegler snorts, “I can see that. You just got out of doctor jail, I don’t need any American lawsuits.”  
  
“Egyptian.” Fareeha’s eyes follow Angela Ziegler’s.

“I’m from Egypt. I’m here for the law school, I’m going to be a prosecutor.” She doesn’t know why she mumbles all this.

“Prosecutor?” She tilts her head, “Will you be putting people away?”  
  
“Of course.” Fareeha gives a sideways smile, “Justice. Put away the villains, miss.”  
  
“I’m always for that.” Dr. Ziegler nods slowly.

“Do you live in Buffalo?” Fareeha asks, she was apparently going to be here for hours.

“No, I’m here visiting a friend, and she forced me to volunteer with her for these races she likes.”  
  
Fareeha’s smiles softly to herself, “I’d say I like these races too, but I am be losing my touch.”  
  
Dr. Zieglar moves the hair away from Fareeha’s face, “You should be careful.” She says more gently this time, “I’d hate to see some young lawyers with head on their shoulder keel over. Even if it is one that doesn’t know when to quit.” She tutts.

Fareeha shrugs, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know when to quit.” She wiggles her naked toes, stripped of her shoes. Ugh. “Though I appreciate the medical assistance.”  
  
Dr. Ziegler sighs, “You don’t know how many students I’ve talked to who push too far. I’m going to have to start a unit on itself for ‘rest and sleep,’ not as questionable as it sounds.”

Fareeha watches her blue eyes mist over and she wonders what kind of doctor this is. “I didn’t really notice.” She mumbles.

The doctor’s eyes drag down, “notice?”

Fareeha clenches and unclenches her fists, something stirring deep inside, like the gray waves threatening to storm. “Notice, the heat I mean.”  
  
Ziegler knits her brow together, her eyes flick down to the printed purple under Fareeha’s eyes, “Sounds like a bad sign. Perhaps yoga? Stressed students can get in trouble.”

Fareeha snorts, “It’s a little more complicated than that.” She doesn’t meet her eye, _don’t tell her._ She wasn’t someone to unburden herself on others like that, it’s not what this doctor with a halo of blonde needed.

“Here, I’ll help then. Repeat after me ‘Dr. Zieglar, I promise,’ come on now.”

Fareeha makes a face, “I promise.” She says reluctantly.

“To take care of myself.”

Fareeha felt something shake in her chest, like a leaf in the wind. She reaches for her dry eyes, the IV drips. “It’s a little more complicated than that as well.”  
  
The doctor’s eyes go soft, “Angela, it’s Angela.” She says her name, “‘I promise to look after myself. I seem like a very bright young woman.’ Doctors orders.”  
  
Fareeha takes a deep breath, _how she could?_ “Sure.” She croaks and Angela tucks her loose hair behind her ear.

“Drink.” She has Fareeha drink water, Fareeha’s eyes feel heavy with something.

“Doctor.” She says with her unknowing feeling in her gut, “What’s it mean? If you can’t sense when you’re...overheating.”  
  
Angela makes her lay back down, still soft like a delicate hill of fabric. “It means you need to pay attention.” She wags a finger, “And go a little slower.”

Fareeha takes another long breath, she chuckles lowly, “Maybe.” She reaches up to her face again, Doctor Ziegler catches her hand.

“As a physician, I have to ask...Are you alright?”  
  
Fareeha’s eyes go wide, “Dehydrated.” She points to the IV.

“Not being able to feel something like that.” Angela’s eyes are hard against hers, “I am under oath to not tell if anything is wrong.” She whispers.

Fareeha looks away, she touches her eyes, they are wet this time, “Doctor,” She croaks, “What do you do when it all goes wrong?”  
  
The other woman’s eyes go wide, “We have faith that it will pass. That it gets smaller.”  
  
Fareeha shakes her head, “My school doesn’t care if I’m waiting for something to pass.” She’s sinking into her lap, “I’m not…” The gray wave overcomes her, billowing.

“What is it?”  
  
Fareeha gulps, she shouldn’t do this. “I’ve been running a lot.”  
  
“I can see that.”  
  
“My mom,” She rakes her nails down her forearm. “I,” She pauses and blinks as many times as she can.  
  
“Mom? Is she, has she,” The doctor fumbles.

Fareeha shrugs shallowly, “I don’t mean to tell you this doctor.” Fareeha wipes at watering eyes, “I just can’t keep waiting for her to come back. I’m sick, I feel sick, do you have something for that? I haven’t seen her… She’s gone, they say she’s gone.”  
  
Angela leans down and presses their foreheads together, she closes her eyes. Her heart beats as their heads touch and the doctor gently cradles her face.

Angela stays there for a long time, with their foreheads pressed together. “You look strong.”  
  
“My school wants to put me on probation,” She almost sobs, “I haven’t been to class. Please, doctor. Heatstroke is one of the first good things to happen to me lately.”  
  
The doctor pinches her, “Miss Fareeha,” She says sternly, “Things hurt. But you don’t have to stop...stop caring for yourself.” She says gently now, she was struggling.

Fareeha reaches up with a hiccup, “I miss her.”  
  
The doctor nods, “That’s normal.”

“I’m worried.”  
  
“I understand.”  
  
“I’m really really hot doctor.”  
  
The doctor laughs, “I can help with that.”

She replaces her ice packs and puts two on her legs, “You’ve been very strong.”  
  
“I’m not sure about that.”  
  
“That’s okay too.” Angela tapped on her IV and Fareeha lets herself take several more shuttering breaths, Angela gives her a kleenex and wipes at her face. She says something soft and aching.

Fareeha drifts off and then stirs as Angela tells her drink water again, hydrate.

“Your mile was very impressive of course.” The woman says as Fareeha sits up, “That was one of the fastest times I’ve seen.”  
  
She feels a flicker of pride, “I suppose it’s worth it then.” She jokes lightly.

Angela reaches down and smiles down, “Do you want to finish?”  
  
Fareeha tilts her head, “Finish?”

She grinned, “It’s almost night time, but-”

“It is?!” Fareeha looks around urgently, catching the long shadows stretching out outside, her mouth falls over.

Angela grabs at her shoulders, “They still have the finish line up I think.”

Fareeha looks slowly behind her, she can’t help it, she breaks into a smile, “if my doctor thinks I’m fit enough.”  
  
Angela tilted her head, “Your doctor will be there the entire time. We’re not going to risk it.”  
  
Fareeha gives a smile that crept up like that six-thirty sun, Angela gently removed the IV drip and wrapped Fareeha’s arm up in a thick gauze, she barely minded.

Angela took her hand and helped her up, Fareeha’s legs instantly wobbled, informing her that she had brought this on herself and they were ready for revenge.

Angela wrapped her arms around her waist and they turned to the opening in the medical tent, “hup.” Angela raises her up, surprisingly strong for a wiry woman. They hobble out the flap in the tent and wander in the weak light of the setting sun.

Angela squeezed her side, she looks her up and down, “You are an athlete.”

Fareeha looked around, “Do you still have my shirt and shorts?”  
  
Angela wrinkles her nose, “I don’t think you want to wear them.”  
  
_Of course she met a pretty woman completely sweaty. And incapacitated._

“Well,” Fareeha sighs as she looks down at her boxer-shorts running undergarment, “It’s one way to end in this race.” She lurches forward, “In my underwear.”

Angela laughs a little, “How many people can say they did that?”

Fareeha studies Angela’s face, “I’m sure they’ll write about me.”  
  
“Then what are we waiting for?” They weave their way closer back to the road.

Angela holds her up and they see the empty blue finish line in view, Angela smiles at her, “They’ll write about you. Brilliant law student finishes despite everything. It’s a good story.”  
  
Fareeha feels her face heat up slightly, the long shadows growing like morning glories up a vine. “Proceeds to drop out of school and becomes professional vigilante. Sure.”  
  
Angela and her teeter toward the ‘Congratulations!’ sign, “I’ve never said no to a woman in a cape, a bright future.”  
  
Fareeha smiles at the ground and yanks Angela faster, “Come on,” She puffs, “I can still win this.”  
  
Angela laughs and they do a three-legged race to the blue line like an unsteady colt learning to run. Angela let’s Fareeha go and Fareeha pumps her weak legs over the finish line, raising her arms in the air.

“She makes it!”  
  
Angela beams and runs up to her, “The crowd goes wild!” The doctor picks her up in a whoosh she spins her around, “V for victory.”  
  
Fareeha puts her arms in the air as she rotates, “Haha!”

They laugh like they are at least gleeful in their own vindication, Fareeha kicks her feet in the air.

She made it past the finish line.


End file.
